Girls in Tight Dresses
by kesdax
Summary: Written in response to that pic, which if you haven't seen yet, then good for you for avoiding spoilers. So, yeah, potential spoilers for season 4.


**A/N: **Credit to shadowkira for giving me the idea for the ending.

Shaw received the package at work, but she waited until she got home before opening it, her instincts telling her not to do it in front of a crowd. She hadn't been expecting the black dress, in her size, and looking like something she would have picked out herself in her old life.

When she pulled it out of the box, a note slid to the floor. Shaw picked it up with a frown.

_Be at The Chatwal Hotel at 7pm. Wear the dress xx._

Shaw didn't recognise the loopy handwriting but she guessed who it must be from. There was only one person who knew where she worked and her preference for black. And she knew exactly how they had gotten her dress size too.

The dress fit snuggly when she tried it on, highlighting all of her curves and she wore it with confidence as she stepped into the hotel's atrium.

"Are you here for the benefit?" a hotel concierge asked her, stopping Shaw in her tracks.

"Uh..." said Shaw.

"I'm going to need to see your invitation," the concierge pressed.

"She's with me," said a familiar voice behind Shaw. "My plus one."

Root appeared by her side, dressed to the nines in a tight blue dress that left very little to the imagination. Shaw gaped at her as Root handed the concierge an invitation, a mischievous smirk dashing across her lips. Shaw looked at her blankly for a moment, aware that the concierge was still frowning down at her, but unable to find any words.

Root slinked one arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Shaw gritted her teeth, aware that the concierge was still watching them with a suspicious look on his face and forced out a smile.

"Have fun, ladies," he said eventually, letting them through into the hotel's ballroom.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Shaw asked.

"Not yet," said Root, eyes scanning the room. "This way," she said, yanking Shaw by the arm as she made a beeline for the bar.

"Good, I could use a drink," Shaw muttered.

"Order two whisky sours," said Root, "let the man in the blue suit chat you up."

Shaw opened her mouth to protest but Root was already nudging her in the direction of the bar. Shaw did what she was told; ordered both drinks, smiling at the blue suited man until she got his attention. His pick-up lines left a lot to be desired, but Shaw was hardly listening as she watched Root sit at the bar at the other side of him. Root slipped her hand into his pant pocket without him noticing and pulled out a set of keys, then disappeared into the crowd. Shaw turned her attention back to the man, smiling apologetically as the barman handed over her drinks and quickly left, a drink in each hand.

Shaw was about to take a sip when Root appeared at her side again, muttering in her ear. "Don't drink those. This way," she added and Shaw had no choice but to follow her, shaking her head in annoyance.

Root walked up to a crowd of men in expensive suits, knocking into a man with a narrow pointed face and thinning black hair, spilling his drink all down the front of his suit.

"Oh gosh, I am so sorry," said Root, dabbing at his front with her hand. Shaw was pretty sure no one else saw, but she caught a flash of something white in Root's hand that Shaw knew she had taken from the guy's inside pocket. Shaw stared at her impressed, but quickly wiped the look off her face when Root turned towards her, taking the drinks out of her hands and handing them to the guy, still fruitlessly trying to dry himself off with a napkin.

"Here, take these," said Root apologetically. "I insist."

Root shoved two drinks into the dumbfounded man's hands and was off again, Shaw trailing behind her with a smile on her face.

"What was that about?" asked Shaw.

"A little something for later," said Root with a smirk, leading them out of the ballroom and through the hotel kitchen. Shaw's ears were met with the clatter of pots and pans, cooks shouting orders at each other. Root walked straight through the chaos and out the back door, stepping into an alleyway at the back of the hotel.

"This way," she said and led Shaw out onto the busy New York street.

They walked side by side for a couple blocks, putting some distance between them and the hotel.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" asked Shaw, glancing at the other woman.

"Not here," said Root, her eyes darting to a security camera on a building above them.

Shaw followed her gaze, but then she was yanked suddenly by the arm down into a side street, Root pressing her into the shadows up against a wall.

"What's wrong, you see something?" asked Shaw, trying to get a look out on the street, expecting Decima agents to be all over them at any moment.

"Nope," said Root and Shaw realised that the hacker was staring at her.

Shaw looked at her, swallowing thickly, noting the way Root's eyes seemed to dart downwards. "Hey, eyes up front," she said, tugging her dress up ever so slightly, but there was less annoyance in her voice than she would have liked.

"Sorry," said Root, not sounding sorry at all, "but you look really hot in that dress. Do you like it?"

"No," Shaw lied, wondering why Root still had her pinned against the wall and why she was yet to do something else about it.

Shaw derailed that thought right then and there, but her mouth had other ideas, apparently. "You don't look too bad yourself," she said hoarsely then immediately snapped her mouth shut.

Root smiled widely. "Why thank you, Sameen."

Shaw groaned, knowing she wasn't about to live that comment down any time soon and followed Root out onto the street again.


End file.
